With all my love, dear girl,
Mother
P.S. This trunk belonged to Great-grandmother Yamada and came with her from Japan.
Miko sniffled and blinked away tears as she tucked the letter inside the envelope and set it to one side. She opened a box and removed the tissue paper covering a teacup from her grandmother’s porcelain tea set. Pink chrysanthemums blossomed on the side of a bright white cup, surrounded by dark blue flourishes and gold trim. When she visited her father’s parents as a child, she and her grandmother would often sip tea from the cups. A note in the box said, “From Papa.”
Carefully wrapping the cup, she returned it to the box and lifted it from the trunk, eager to see what else it held.
Dainty crocheted lace edged several sets of fine linen pillowcases, embroidered with flowers, leaves, and birds. Miko recalled seeing her mother do the intricate stitching, but hadn’t given a thought to them one day belonging to her.
Deeper inside the trunk, she found two sets of sheets, three tablecloths with matching napkins, and a stack of dish towels. A beautiful crystal pitcher shimmered in the fading afternoon light as she pulled it from a box with eight matching glasses.
A thin white box tied with a pink bow drew her interest. She removed the ribbon and lifted the lid. An exquisite peignoir set rested on a bed of white tissue. Airy lace and pearl buttons trimmed the blush-colored robe and gown. A note in the box from her mother offered a few words of instruction a naïve new bride might like to know for her wedding night.
Embarrassment sizzled in her cheeks as she considered her mother’s advice. Heat churned in her midsection when she envisioned the look on Rock’s face if she went to him wearing the seductive gown.
Unsettled by her thoughts, she dropped the filmy creations back in the box and retied the ribbon. No matter how much she loved Rock, no matter how desperately she truly wanted to be his bride, she wouldn’t tell him. He’d already sacrificed far more for her and her family than anyone had a right to ask. She refused to tie him to her through a marriage that was nothing more than a farce.
A few blankets, assorted pieces of her great-grandmother’s dishes, and a lovely box of handkerchiefs rounded out the remaining contents of the trunk.
She repacked everything, her fingers lingering on the box with the peignoir set. Rather than set it back inside, she took it with her when she returned to the house and stuffed it in the bottom dresser drawer in her bedroom. Miko took a moment to tidy her hair, then wash her face and hands before returning to the kitchen.
Rock rushed inside, wearing an excited grin and his uniform.
Her gaze traveled over his broad shoulders and chest, down the length of his long, solid legs, and back up to his face. “What are you doing?”
He wrapped his good hand around her waist and pulled her against his chest. “My wife said she wanted to see me in my uniform today, and so she shall.”
Miko laughed. “You are crazy, Rock Laroux.”
“Just about you, Mrs. Laroux.” Rock opened the refrigerator and took out the basket of food Lucy Phillips had left for them to enjoy. “Are you ready for dinner?”
“Yes, I believe I am.” Miko started to gather plates and cutlery, but Rock took them from her hands, set them on the counter, and nudged her toward the door.
“Everything is ready. All that’s needed is the food and my beautiful bride.” He ushered her outside, then held out his arm to her as he carried the basket.
Miko took his arm, secretly thrilled by his attentiveness, as she regarded the hard muscle beneath her hand. “You don’t have to keep pretending to be the doting groom, Rock. Really, I don’t expect you to put on a charade for my benefit.”
His smile wilted as he gazed at her. “I’m not pretending or putting on a charade, Miko. I couldn’t be more pleased or happy to marry you.”
Unconvinced, she cast a wary glance at him as they made their way up the hill to the garden.
Once they entered the gate, Miko released Rock’s arm and gasped in wonder. She’d never seen the garden look lovelier. Every stone lantern glowed with light, and over by the pond beneath their favorite weeping cherry tree, he’d spread out a blanket. Candles glowed from where he’d set them on rocks all around the picnic area. The sound of music drifted on the evening breeze from the radio Rock stashed nearby.
“Oh, Rock, it’s like something from a dream!” She clasped her hands beneath her chin to keep from wrapping them around the remarkable man she’d married. “This is the best gift you could ever give me.”
He kissed her cheek and motioned for her to precede him to the picnic blanket. Instead, she looped her arm around his left arm and walked beside him, committing to memory every detail of the amber-lit garden.
Romantic, fanciful notions fluttered through her thoughts. Miko would have said love was in the air, if Rock returned her affection. It lingered on her tongue, filled her senses, and danced before her eyes in the golden glow of candles and lanterns.
At the edge of the blanket, he set down the picnic basket, then offered Miko his hand. Gracefully, she folded her long legs beneath her to one side and placed her hands on her lap. Rock settled so close their hips touched, then he reached for the picnic basket.
The unfamiliar sensations his proximity produced left her overwhelmed. His efforts to make the day special for her, combined with the sheer enormity of what had transpired, made her waver between the need to weep and the urge to laugh.
She released a contented sigh and watched the muscles play beneath Rock’s shirt. He filled a plate with thin slices of seasoned roast, pieces of cheese, crusty bread, and chunks of tomato and cucumber sprinkled with salt and pepper. After he handed her the plate, he filled one for himself and sat back, taking her hand in his as he offered thanks for their meal. When he included his gratitude for their wedding and asked the Lord’s blessing on their life together, Miko bit her lip to hold back her tears.
They dug into the food Petey’s mother had provided for their first meal as husband as wife. The food wasn’t fancy, but it was good, filling, and easy to eat with their fingers.
Rock lifted a jar of grape juice from a pail he’d filled with ice and unscrewed the lid. He poured two glasses and held one out to Miko. “I propose a toast. To Miko, my magnificent bride. May the seeds of love planted today grow into a bountiful, rich garden.”
She held her glass up to his. “To Rock, a man full of surprises with a heart even bigger than his charm. May the time we spend together give you happy moments and lovely memories.”
Her toast took Rock aback. She made it sound like he’d only be there for a limited time, as if he’d leave her as soon as her family returned to the farm. He didn’t know how or when, but someday he’d convince her that he’d meant every word of the vows he’d made and planned to keep them until his dying body exhaled its last breath.
Now wasn’t the time, though. Not as they sat in the wondrous garden planted by her family and tended with such care by her own hands. The lanterns and candles gave it a magical appearance and Rock was glad he’d thought to light them.
He’d spent considerable time that morning hauling the candles he’d purchased the previous afternoon up the hill and placing them around. The blanket and radio he’d carried up and arranged, wanting to make the evening special for Miko.
By the look on her face as she’d stepped into the garden, he was sure she appreciated his efforts.
As he devoured the sandwich he’d made of bread, meat and cheese, he watched her eat. She held herself with such poise and dignity, he wondered, again, if her family tree included a royal branch or two somewhere along the way.
He grinned as he pictured the energetic, amiable Shig as a formidable tyrant.
Miko noticed his amusement and raised a dark eyebrow. “What’s so funny?” she asked, wiping her mouth on one of the napkins Lucy had included in the basket.
“I was picturing your grandfather as a Japanese warrior or emperor. He seems far too friend
ly and fun-loving for that role.”
She nodded in agreement. “You might be surprised at what he could do if he needed to, but he is easygoing and playful for the most part.”
“I’ve noticed he’s most always smiling. His attitude is one of the things I most admire about him. Despite what’s going on in the world around him, he doesn’t let it alter the happiness within him.”
Miko smiled. “That’s Granddad. Grandma is more of the pessimistic, cautious one of the two. Obviously, she passed that along to my mother.”
He didn’t want to incriminate himself by saying anything he shouldn’t about his new mother-in-law, so he changed the subject. “Speaking of your mother, did you locate the trunk?”
Miko held the napkin in front of her face, trying to hide the blush that bloomed in her cheeks at the thought of what she’d found in the trunk. “I did find it. There were several things for setting up a home. I’ll leave most of it in the trunk for now. If we do invite the Phillips family over for a meal, it might be fun to use a few of the things, though.”
Rock ate another sandwich as they listened to the radio and talked about the additional boys he’d hired to help pick cherries in the coming week. Seven boys would show up Tuesday morning, ready to work. Miko walked him through the process of picking. They hoped to be finished by the end of the week. They’d agreed she would stay in the house and prepare lunch each day. Rock would carry the food outside for their workers to enjoy.
Once she finished her dinner, Rock set out a bowl of strawberries he picked that morning. Selecting the plumpest, reddest berry, he lifted it to her mouth, nearly insisting she take a bite. He watched her every movement. A drop of crimson juice clung to her ruby lips, and he fought back the desire to cover her with kisses.
Miko might have convinced herself that this would be a mock marriage, but Rock hadn’t agreed to it. He’d never wanted a woman as much as he wanted her. Now that she was his wife, he would do everything in his power to woo her and make her his own.
Enchanted with her mouth, ensnared by her floral scent, entranced by the lights flickering in the garden that offered their own little slice of heaven, Rock leaned toward Miko, intent on stealing a kiss.
Her eyes widened and she abruptly stood, brushing crumbs from her skirt and nervously repacking the basket.
Rock moved behind her and settled his hand on her waist, causing her to jump. Part of him hoped she jounced not because he’d startled her, but because the feel of his hand sent her nerve endings into a frenzy similar to the one he experienced every time they touched.
“Would you like to go for a stroll?” he asked, holding out his arm and offering his most charming smile.
“That would be lovely.” Her voice was soft as she spoke, sounding a little shy and uncertain.
In no hurry, they meandered along the footpaths, strolled over a bridge, and gazed at the lantern light reflected in the pool at the base of the waterfall. Rock kept the conversation light when they bothered to speak at all.
Eventually, they wandered back to the weeping cherry tree where Bing Crosby crooned “This is My Night to Dream” on the radio. Rock couldn’t imagine a more perfect song to dance to at that moment. Slipping his left arm around Miko’s waist, he took her hand in his, kissing the backs of her fingers.
“May I have the pleasure of dancing with my bride?” he asked.
Starlight seemed a dim reflection to the bright light twinkling in his eyes.
Miko tipped her head in consent, her feet moving across the grass, keeping time to Rock’s steps.
He hummed the tune as they swayed in the glow of the candles with a sliver of moon shining down on them from a clear night sky.
Possessively, his hand splayed against her back and he turned into her, pulling her closer. Relief and torment, ecstasy and misery washed over his body in a confused jumble as they danced. Rock discovered his home was right there with her in his arms, her body swaying against his to the music.
Confident with enough time and patience that he’d win her affections, he smiled. Suddenly, he understood what his father had meant when he said love from the right woman gave a man a reason to hope for tomorrow.
Miko gave him hope that went far beyond the boundaries of war and death and fear. The love he felt for her buoyed his dreams and made the impossible seem completely tangible.
“This is my night to dream,” he sang in a husky tone then hummed a few lines. He thought the words about being in love with no idea what he might do exceedingly appropriate for the moment the two of them shared.
Slightly pulling back, Miko studied his face. Rock held her gaze, his dark and full of yearning.
With a sigh, she moved closer again and nestled her head against his shoulder. Rock’s feet continued the dance while his heart hammered so loudly, he was sure she would hear the staccato beats. Time stood still and the rest of the world fell away in that moment as he held her in his arms, breathed in her luscious scent, and reveled in the wonder that she was his wife.
His wife!
The glorious, mysterious, thoroughly fantastic creature in his arms was his bride. His to have and to hold, for as long as they both should live.
Rock had in mind there would be a lot of holding and having in the years to come.
First, he had to convince her he truly loved her. The realization that he’d never said the words to her flashed across his mind. No wonder she doubted his sincerity when he’d not forced the most important words a man could say to a woman past his lips.
The moment the song ended, he dropped a soft kiss to her temple. She lifted her head and he saw the truth in her eyes, the wanting and hunger there as strong as his own.
“Miko,” he whispered in a raspy, deep tone as his thumb grazed the long column of her throat. Unable to stop himself, to hold back any longer, his lips ignited a fiery trail along her jaw before settling on her mouth.
Surprised and pleased when she parted her lips, Rock kissed her deeply, thoroughly, lovingly as he continued to hold her in his arms. “Kamiko, I love you.”
Rather than reply, she pressed against him, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck to remove any space lingering between them. Her heart pounded against his. Rock marveled that he’d survived so many years without the pleasure of her kisses, without the warmth of her embrace. Languidly, his hands slid along her back, past her waist, caressing, massaging, stirring her to respond.
As suddenly as she melted against him, she jerked back, chest heaving as she glared at him. “I’m not some floozy you can woo into your bed, Captain Laroux.”
Stunned, Rock reached out to touch her, but she took a stumbling step away from him. “Miko, I meant what I said. I do love you. I’ve loved you since the first time I opened my eyes and saw you sleeping in the chair next to the bed. Nothing will change how I feel about you.”
Shaking her head, she closed her eyes as she backed farther from his reach. “No, Rock. You’ve been stuck here with me for weeks on end, and this isn’t love. I’ve read about men who think they’re in love with the women who nurse them. I wouldn’t be wrong in saying you had feelings for a nurse at the hospital, would I?”
His guilty look told her all she needed to know. “I appreciate all you’ve done for me, for my family. The sacrifice you made today by marrying me is more than I can comprehend, but if you… if we… consummate this marriage, it will only bring you problems.”
He stepped forward and grabbed her hand, holding it against his heart. “Do you feel my heart racing, Miko? You do that to me. You are the only girl who has ever made it feel like it might explode right out of my chest. You’re the only girl I’ve ever told I love, and I won’t love another. It’s you, Miko. Only you.”
“Rock, no. Stop it.” She yanked her hand from his and turned away. “I won’t have you burdened by a future with me. I just won’t. You know how people will treat you, what they’ll say about you.”
“They’ll say I’m a lucky man to have talked such a bea
utiful, incredible, intelligent woman into marrying me.” Rock moved behind her again, pressing a moist kiss to her neck.
She wavered at his touch. A shiver of desire coursed through her, and he saw goose bumps rise on her skin. Without a doubt, he knew he could seduce her, but she’d hate him for it and so would he.
Resigned, he stepped back and lifted the picnic basket in his hand. “I won’t touch you again, Miko, until you ask me to. When you decide you’d like to truly be my wife, come to me anytime, day or night, I don’t care. Come to me and tell me you love me, and I’ll be yours forevermore. Just come to me.”
Silently, he turned and left the garden. Once he disappeared out the gate, Miko sank onto the blanket and cried. Pretending she didn’t love Rock, pretending she didn’t want him more than she craved air to breathe, was the hardest thing she’d ever done. No matter how much it hurt her, she would spare him the misery of being shunned because he’d taken a wife most of his friends would consider an enemy.
Chapter Seventeen
The peignoir set taunted Miko. Four days had passed since the beautiful picnic beneath the weeping cherry tree. Four days since she’d spurned Rock’s affections. Four days that his words had echoed in her head and tormented her heart.
As though the filmy bit of fabric trimmed in lace had a voice, the peignoir set persistently called to Miko. Multiple times, she’d gone into the bedroom and opened the dresser drawer, fingers lingering on the box.
No matter how much she wanted to slip it on and go to Rock, she just couldn’t do it. Convinced what he felt for her was lingering sentiment from her nursing him back to health, she knew in time he’d get over his infatuation and set his affection on someone else. Someone better suited as a sweet, obedient, dutiful wife. Someone who wasn’t a fugitive.
In an effort to rid herself of the nagging voice in her head telling her to surrender, she took the peignoir set up to the house where she slept. At least there, it wouldn’t tempt her during the day. Although she could have easily stored it back in the trunk where she’d found it, Miko didn’t give that a moment of consideration.
Garden of Her Heart (Hearts of the War Book 1) Page 20